Trapped
by chausettes et chauseurs
Summary: Reports of a mysterious thief are turning up while rumors of a vampire have been circling around. Now Magnus has to deal with two problems at once as she hunts down a certain problematic genius to uncover some answers.  Set before Sleepers.


_Even though I should be working on Achrophobia, I just can't bring myself to... which is a shame considering there's only about 2 chapters left to write for it... Oh well, I'll work on it someday..._

_Sorry for that small rant of my typing to myself, I have recently become obsessed with Sanctuary. And being who I am, wanted to write a fanfiction for it._

_Rating is T for suggestive themes and cursing._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Sanctuary. If I did, Tesla would still be a vampire and he would be in nearly every episode instead of only a handful per season. I am not making any money off of this. If I were, that would be amazingly epictastic because I kind of need a job._

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**Prologue**

She staggered down the street, half empty bottle of scotch clutched in one hand, a few crinkled papers in the other. Her dark hair hung in clumped strings, oily, unkempt, and cached with the mud and filth from where she had passed out the previous night. Blood smeared her gaunt face, and her hollow eyes gazed out in front of her, hopeless and unseeing. She stumbled, leaning against the wall of the brick building for support. The long jacket that hung loosely from her thin shoulders was tattered and worn, riddled with holes and coated with a thick layer of dirt and grime. The woman took a swig from the bottle, trembling.

After a few moments, she fell to her knees, papers scattering across the walkway. She muttered something incoherent and let out a strangled cry, scurrying across the ground to gather up the sheets before the wind carried them off. A well dressed man walked by, sneering at the drunk scrambling at his feet and blocking his path. When the woman noticed, she looked up at him, dark cerulean eyes frightened as she murmured a soft apology and hurrying to remove herself from his sight. He spat, stepping on a paper that had eluded her grasp and was off. She quickly snatched up the last paper before hurrying down an alley and collapsing in a depressed daze. The world was spinning, twisting, turning, cold, and oppressing. The destitute woman choked out a sob, hands clinging to her knees as she curled herself up into a wailing knot.

It wasn't until she heard the sounds of heavy footsteps that she stopped, fearful eyes wide and pleading as they looked up at the intruder of her misery. Two men in pristine gray suites, dark coats coming to their knees, stood over her, their derby hats obscuring their eyes. She clutched her papers to her chest, quickly scrambling away only for her back to meet the concrete wall.

One of the men knelt down, seemingly studying the woman before nodding to the other one. "Dr. O'Brien, we would like you to come with us."

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Magnus ran a hand through her dark curls, willing her mounting headache to go away. There was always some form of trouble hovering over the Sanctuary network, and this time it wasn't an abnormal rampaging out in the streets. Three reports alone within the last month spoke about the disappearance of rare artifacts. Each one said the same thing: the object just disappeared into thin air. No camera caught the footage, no fingerprints were found, no evidence what-so-ever of a break-in. She knew who had done it. In fact, she was positive that it was the work of a professional: the notorious "Reaper," the world-renowned thief who seemingly left no trace. Everything fit.

Helen sighed, turning to her computer to check out every bit of information that she could involving the infamous burglar. After waiting a few seconds for the information to load, she clicked on the first file that came up, scanning the date.

_June 14, 1942_

It was the first recorded case involving what they had presumed to be a witty thief. They had tried to catch him... on several occasions, but nothing seemed to work. Of course that had been over fifty years ago, and technology had not been very advanced. Magnus frowned, contemplating how he had managed to survive so long and still be able to effortlessly elude captors. Her brow furrowed as she thought, tapping her pen absently against her desk.

"Hey, Magnus," Will's voice abruptly interrupted her train of though. The woman looked up at him, sensing that the matter he was about to present was important. "I think you'll find this interesting." He leaned on her desk, holding a manila envelope out to her.

She reached out, plucking it out of his hands as she observed his concerned eyes. "I got this from a friend who's working on the case. He couldn't make heads or tails of it, so he sent it to me hoping I could enlighten him." Will babbled on as Magnus took out the contents of the envelope.

"Dear God..." She murmured softly viewing the photographs of two men. Both were laying on their respective beds, eyes wide with horror, mouths opened in a silent scream. They were half naked, torsos exposed to the air, shallow claw marks running up either side, and on one, their abdomen. The most intriguing part was the blood on their-

"Both of them had what appeared to be deep bite marks on the left side of their necks. And they were practically drained of blood, barely any left in their bodies." Will stated darkly, "It has to be the work of a -"

"Vampire." Magnus finished his sentence. She scrutinized the psychoanalyst, watching him as he gave her a grim smile.

"Exactly. Which explains the lack of DNA evidence found. The feds are even on the case. They think that whoever did it is some wacko vamp-enthusiast."

Magnus shook her head, finger tracing the marks on the torso before she read the medical report. "The claw marks are much too thin to be made by human fingernails... No, if it is indeed a vampire then we had best find it before the government."

Will paused for a moment in his thoughts to lock eyes with his mentor, "You don't think it's another one of the Cabal's experiments, do you?" He asked hesitantly, fearing that the mere mention of the vile organization would upset her.

She gave him a measured look, lips pursing and a ghost of a shadow haunting her deep blue eyes. "No... I trust that John would have destroyed any facility with the means of biological experimentation." She organized the files, keeping her hands active. "There's no doubt in my mind that it's one of Tesla's projects... scheming little bastard." Magnus paused in her shuffling, giving Will an authoritative glance. There was no time at the moment to worry about the Reaper, that matter could wait for now. "I want a team ready to hunt him down by dawn."

"Of course. I'll get Henry on locating him right away." The protégé turned, casting one small smile at Magnus, "You know the whole 'we leave at dawn' thing is getting pretty old though."

His mentor just gave him an amused smirk. "Well, you'll be happy to know that you can return to bed once I leave. I need you to stay behind this time."

He grimaced, "Sounds like a jolly old time."

Helen watched him leave, rubbing her throbbing head. This day was not turning out well. Not only was a thief looming on the horizon, but a vampire was running on the loose as well. She took one last look at the file on the computer, then turned back to the ones on her desk. She sighed, this was going to be a long night.

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_Thank you for reading, I know that it wasn't great. Please don't forget to review because that keeps the plot nubbins munchin away. :)_


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